


Mormor Christmas Advent Challenge (by someone who doesn't celebrate Christmas)

by FandomIsza



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: BAMF Irene Adler, Christmas Party, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Minor Irene Adler/Jim Moriarty, Pansexual Character, Sebastian Moran-centric, Top Sebastian Moran, advent challenge 2019, mormor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21626074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomIsza/pseuds/FandomIsza
Summary: Sebastian Moran is tired of being *just* Moriarty's fucktoy, and is ready to actually make a move on his boss. However, Jim Moriarty is soooo changeable. Can Sebastian Moran survive his own feelings? (Answer: Probably not.)This is a chapter-a-day style of the Christmas Advent challenge for this year. The daily prompts are:1. Snowflake2. Wishes3. The more the merrier4. Lights5. Wind6. Angel7. Ashes and soot8. Warm bath9. Festive10. Once a year11. Chimney12. Bah humbug13. Family14. Not a creature was stirring15. Midnight16. Baby please come home17. Wonder18. Exhausted19. Escape20. Christmas present21. Winter22. Miracle23. Sentiment24. To all a good night
Relationships: Irene Adler/James Moriarty, Irene Adler/Jim Moriarty, Sebastian Moran & James Moriarty, Sebastian Moran & Jim Moriarty, Sebastian Moran/James Moriarty, Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty
Kudos: 15
Collections: 2019 Advent Ficlet Challenge





	1. Snowflake

**Author's Note:**

> All of these chapters are going to be really, really short. 
> 
> This chapter is 616 words...I hope you enjoy it, still!

100 million molecules, arranged in too many ways to count, constructing a single snowflake. Including each and every snowflake blurring Sebastian’s vision as he swerved in and out of the crowded London streets, listening to too-early carolers and children screaming. It disgusted him. Every single one of the people who knocked into him undoubtedly believed themselves as unique as the flakes drifting around them. That would be enough to make Sebastian burst out laughing, if he wasn’t already late for meeting his boss. Despite all the tedious people in the world, Jim Moriarty was one of a kind. Slick as ice, and twice as cold.

He pushed through the doors of the flat lobby with a chill, and quickly dusted himself off of the layer of snow that was quickly becoming ice. Sure enough, Jim was texting in front of the fire, waiting for him. He fleetingly wondered if the warmth could melt the man perched in front of the flame. He shook the thought away; even if it could, he’d risk melting him to his frozen core.

“Welcome back, Moran.” He could hear the grin without seeing his face. Jim rose with the same grace as wind blowing around freshly fallen snow. Not waiting for Sebastian to answer, he began striding towards the lift with more purpose than most men could find in their entire lives. Sebastian watched him with an appreciative eye, following obediently to join Jim upstairs, following the same pattern they had followed for two months, now. They never waited to arrive at Jim’s floor; it was an immediate crash of lips, and his fingers tearing off the jacket worth more than his life as he slammed Jim against metal wall, not giving a damn about any pain he caused. The dark-haired devil didn’t seem to mind, nails pushed snowflakes from blonde hair into the warm flesh of his scalp and dragged him ever closer, completely unconcerned about the fire trying in vain to threaten the snowstorm. His mind chilled over, letting his body lead him, as Jim had always preferred. Even echoes of thoughtful movements only ever earned, _“Stop thinking, Moran!”_ and a bite to his neck as he undressed the blizzard in front of him.

Nights like these were never boring, yet he still hungered for more, while knowing he would never be satisfied. He was allowed into Jim’s bed, enjoyed the frozen embrace, and burned for more, all the same. For the night, Jim would allow himself to be fully devoured by a flame that licked at the melting droplets that rolled off his icy pale flesh, and marked what was his with frostbite and kisses that melted quicker than snowflakes on one’s tongue. It would be over far sooner than Sebastian would like, yet at the same time as always.

Patterns of scratches bit his skin as he pulled his jacket tight around himself to brace himself against the outside storm, trying to ignore how much warmer it was out there, compared to in Jim’s heart. Sometimes, he could convince himself that Jim wanted him there, to curl up beside and bask in the warm glow of something bigger than them both. It was foolish.

Jim was a god that long abandoned man, and was larger than anything Sebastian could ever imagine. He was above his sniper’s petty feelings. He had no need for love or cherishment, only the worship that consumed within Sebastian’s soul. It didn’t matter, nor would it ever. He belonged to Jim, in his mind, soul and body. Every snowflake against chilled bitemarks was just a testament to his devotion. As each melted away, he was sure he could find warmth amongst the storm.


	2. Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian doesn't make wishes, not anymore. 
> 
> Jim, however, loves mysticism.

“First star of the night, Moran,” Jim mentioned thoughtlessly, continuing to trek his way through the streets, sniper trailing behind him, “make a wish.” Sebastian just hummed, not taking him seriously. He remembered when he actually bothered with wishing; it was all childish nonsense.

_ “Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might have this wish tonight!” Sebastian considered the words his mother recited from his storybook, brows furrowing as his bottom lip slipped out into a pout. His mother ran her fingers through his hair, smiling softly as she paused her reading, “What’s wrong, my darling? Are you not enjoying the story?” She prompted, letting her fingers grazed his plump cheek. His blond hair whirred back and forth as he shook his head. _

_ “Why ‘an she ma’e wishes an’ no me?” His eyes cast downward as she laughed softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. _

_ “My dear, of course you can make a wish. Would you like to?” He nodded, eyes lighting up just like the star from the book, “Look,” She pointed out his window to the dazzling star against the inky blackness, “Repeat after me:” _

_ “Star light, star bright,” _

_ “S’ar ligh, s’ar brigh,” _

_ “First star I see tonight,” _

_ “Firs s’ar I see tonigh,” _

_ “I wish I may, I wish I might,”  _

_ “I wizz I may, I wizz I migh,” _

_ “Have this wish tonight!” _

_ “Hab this wizz tonigh!” _

_ She giggled, tickling him until he was a bubbling mess on her lap, “You’ve got to be smiling! Good—Perfect! Now think about what you wish for!” He screwed his eyes shut, focusing on the shiny model train they had passed back at the mall. He traced its outline in his mind, painting it with the same blue as his mother’s eyes, and detailing out the edges with sparkling silver glitter arching over perfect circles. _

_ “Thanyoo!” He squealed, swinging his arms around his mother’s neck. It never occurred to him to make the purple swelling to go away. _

He didn’t believe in making wishes, and he was confident that Jim didn’t, either. It was a sort of game the Irish devil seemed to play, time and time again. Each time just as heedless as the last. 

A chirping of “11:11, make a wish, Tiger,” here, and a “Shooting star; you know what that means?” there. Jim had once even brought him a white-covered flower head, insisting he blow it into the wind, doing it himself when Sebastian just scoffed. His lips formed a perfect ‘o,’ blowing the little white wisps into Sebastian’s face. He swallowed thickly, staring at the little smirk that followed with half a mind to lean forward and claim those mischievous lips with his own. He shook off the shudder running down his spine, just laughing at the little tease. 

“And what did you wish for, Boss?” Jim slipped the stem into Sebastian’s belt loops, and slipped off with a faint shrug. His perfectly shaped hips swung temptingly as he retreated, causing drool to threaten his sniper's lips.

“If I told you that, it won’t come true.”

_ Annie was screaming, waving wild arms in the air in an attempt to force the lady beetle off of her, “HELP! HEEEELLLLLP MEEEEEEE!” Her blaring screeching alerted everyone to her distress. Sebastian just sighed, cupping his hands over the bright red bug and extracting it off of her. He shook his head, laughing. _

_ “C’mon, it's just a lady beetle! You’re supposed to make a wish when one lands on you!” He just laughed harder as she slammed her fist into his shoulder, not feeling even a lick of pain.  _

_ “If it is sooooo good, then you make a wish on it!” She squealed indignantly. His chin jutted up in response, hands dropping it onto his shoulder, fingers moving to stroke his chin, like he’d seen their literature teacher do.  _

_ “I wish Annie Laysworth wasn’t such a fraidy-cat!” He announced, toppling to the ground almost immediately. He felt lucky that she didn’t hit that hard, then again, he’d been asking for it. _

Jim was being slower, tonight. The madman enjoyed making everything a show, but Sebastian was almost positive that the man’s little stunt after their meeting yesterday was responsible for the care he was taking. Polished ivory blades scratched at his tanned skin, a warm, wet tongue trailing over the pink-raised trails. His hips jutted up every few seconds, searching for more contact than Jim was willing to give, while his hands remained enclosed by pristine frosted fingers, the tips of which dug deep enough to tear the sheets above his head. 

Sebastian had tried to focus on the obsidian head below his chin, failing as his eyes began lolling away from their target, until they were met with Jim’s own, “What’s this?” Jim’s thumb and forefinger lifted to the sniper’s cheek, who frowned in response, “You lost an eyelash, Tiger,” He smiled amusedly, lifting it with his thumb to display his findings, “Make a wish!” He encouraged when Sebastian just stared aimlessly at him. With soft eyes, he blew it from Jim’s finger, smiling to himself.

_ I wish to stay by your side forever, Boss. _


	3. The More the Merrier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's sister is crushing on Sebastian.

“Come on, James!” She was imploring him, far beyond begging, by now. The new snipers Jim had hired were all (evidently) exceptionally attractive. He didn’t need to have his new recruits think something like this was a regular occurence, and especially not have her texting them during work. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering how he’d gotten this into this situation, “Why would you want them there anyways? They can hardly keep up with the level of etiquette your soiree demands in the first place!” She crossed her arms, pouting at him. He shot a look at her, telling her that he wasn’t being her little act.

Sebastian knocked on Jim’s door, “Come in.” He entered, hesitating as he saw the woman sitting across from Jim. Her suit jacket was low cut, and without a shirt underneath, left nothing to the imagination, instead exposing the smooth, flat expanse of pale flesh—almost as pale as Jim’s, and if anyone knew just how white Jim’s skin got when it was never exposed to sunlight, it was Sebastian—until it bloomed up into two soft and perky breasts. She shifted to lean forward towards him as he entered. She crossed her legs, causing her already short pencil skirt to ride up even further.

“And who is this delectable pi-” Jim interrupted her before she could finish. 

“Sebastian Moran. He’s my second in command.” He held out a hand to take the file Sebastian was holding. He handed it over obediently, smiling faintly as he did. “Moran, meet Irene Adler.”

“It's a pleasure, ma’am.” He nodded respectfully at her, wishing she would just disappear. He’d finally built up the courage to ask Jim to dinner, and he had no doubt that he would be rejected in front of a client. James Moriarty was untouchable; he didn’t have any weaknesses, as far as any of the criminal world was concerned, and he wouldn’t be changing that for a googly-eyed sniper/right-hand.

“I’m sure,” She grinned mischievously, “perhaps I could get to know you better this weekend. I’m having a bit of a party, it would be a great way for you, being Moriarty’s new second, to get connected. Wouldn’t you agree, Darling?” Jim clenched his teeth, knowing exactly what she was up to.

“Of course. The more, the merrier.”

* * *

Sebastian had attended plenty of parties like Ms. Adler’s throughout his childhood, yet the feeling of suiting himself up in full attire, tie and pocket square included, made him feel awkward. The only reason he was actually attending this stupid event was just in a bid to get closer to Jim, and it actually seemed important to him. 

Bright headlights pulled up in front of his flat, and he grinned, quickly straightening his tie and checking his reflection to make sure he looked cleaned up. He slipped outside, skipping steps down to the ground floor to meet Jim. They’d agreed that it’d be best for him to go with Jim, which had sent lighting across Sebastian’s veins and straight to his heart. 

The door to the limousine swung open for Sebastian, Jim typing away on his phone, looking as ravishing as ever. Sebastian took only a moment to appreciate him, then climbed into the vehicle, taking a seat beside him. 

“Good to see you again, Sebastian,” Irene greeted pleasantly. His expression fell as he looked to her. Well, that was just. _Great_.

Looked like he wasn't going to get anywhere tonight.


	4. Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian has to attend Irene's party. The moment he leaves Jim's side, he finds himself trapped between a rock and a hard place; namely, Irene Adler and his feelings for his boss.

Sebastian really didn’t like Irene sitting there, watching him like some sort of prey. Not when he’d been hoping to convince Jim to just skip the stupid party and go look at the city lights or something, but that would be impossible with the little weasel right there. 

“So, Ms. Adler, I never got a chance to ask what your business is with the firm?” He attempted politeness, but his right eye twitched at the very notion of being pleasant towards her. She glanced over at Jim, smirk tugging to her blood-red lips. She certainly dressed up for the evening, and by that, Sebastian meant at least she  _ was _ dressed. With the coy look she was fixing Jim, Sebastian’s fury was being sparked.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, playing at bashful, “I suppose you could say history. Wouldn’t you agree Jimmy?” She gave him a look so closely resembling a kitten trembling in a flurry, so uncharacteristically innocent that it frightened him. He didn’t get it. Wearing a dress that was practically strings, and such dark make-up that it would be suitable for a ‘queen of darkness’ costume on Halloween, yet she managed to make all that seem negligible with a single look. Jim only sighed, rubbing his temple.

Wait...had she just called him ‘Jimmy’?! And she survived!?

“Something like that, yes,” He agreed, though a bit ruefully. History...Jimmy...Sebastian’s head was swimming with so many theories that he couldn’t figure out how insane half of them seemed. “You also have your little dominatrix gig; a bit of quid pro quo, if you will.” This was a little more chipper, more teasing. The serious solemness Jim had taken on would have concerned Sebastian more, if he hadn’t been so busy theorizing on how exactly they knew each other. 

Irene giggled like there was a joke being shared between them, “Yes, I suppose.”

* * *

  
  


After they arrived, Sebastian remembered why exactly he’d hated attending these events when he was in school. Too many people corralled like the sheep they were, and women never seemed to get the hint that he wasn’t interested. Still, it seemed second nature to Jim to waltz around, owning the room and everyone in it with his wry wit and endless charm. It was art; he was a masterpiece, and so much more than a man. With the people everywhere, though, it was difficult to appreciate the divinity. It didn’t surprise Sebastian that he eventually lost him in the waves of people coming and going.

What did surprise him was the small hand on his forearm that yanked him out of a hall while he’d been searching for his madman.

“Sebastian,” She purred softly, closing the door behind him, “I’ve been looking for you.” She swayed her hips as she approached, eyes hooded with a desire that made Sebastian’s stomach sink. 

“Ah-my apologies, I, uh, I’ve been looking for Jim-” He took a step back cautiously, wary of her nearing figure.

“Why go looking for him, when you could stay right here with me?” She teased, trailing two fingers up his chest, leaving none of her intentions hidden. He swallowed thickly, wondering if she would leave him alone if he confessed to be fucking—who Sebastian was almost positive was—her ex-boyfriend. He just chuckled awkwardly.

“I-I need to find him, actually, you see-” “Well, you won’t at this rate. I’m almost certain he’s got a little someone wrapped around his finger, ready to sweep her off to bed.” Irene interjected, letting a hand roam down to his belt. He immediately caught her wrist, pulling it away. He shook his head hurriedly, trying to ignore the spike pressing into his skin from inside his stomach. If Jim was, Sebastian couldn’t exactly blame him, yet he’d still be rather pissed. Might even refuse to warm Jim’s bed until he’s changed the sheets.

“Look, I’m flattered and all, but I’m a lot more interested in him, than you. Sorry, but your petty little heartbrokenness doesn’t really change that.” He stepped away from her, watching her jaw go slack, and brows rise to her hairline. He would have laughed, if she hadn’t started to first.

Her hand clasped over her lips to contain herself, but did little good, “Did you just insinuate I was heartbroken over  _ James? _ ” Sebastian blinked in surprise, opening his mouth to affirm that, yes, that’s what he’d meant, “Why on  _ earth _ would I be heartbroken over my big brother? Is he dying, because I’m almost certain not!” He was her...brother? And he’d just admitted to fancying the bugger— _ Shit! _

“I-I didn’t-I thought that-” “Yes, clearly you didn’t know. Now what was that? The bit about enjoying my brother’s bits?” Her tone had taken on that of a town gossiper, and Sebastian swore his head was spinning. The lights danced across his eyes in gorgeous, yet nauseating swirls. 


	5. Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short snippet of Irene being a great wingwoman.

The wind was blowing the snow every which way as they left the party. After his encounter with Irene, Sebastian immediately darted out to find Jim, and evidently the genius had been searching for him, as well. Jim immediately began shivering from the cold, his sensitive skin bristling pink. Sebastian pulled off his coat fluidly, not minding the cold at all.

“Here,” He murmured, draping the coat over JIm’s thin shoulders. He glanced up at his savior, pulling the jacket tightly around himself.

“Thank you, ‘bastian,” He murmured, leaning into Sebasitan’s side, not allowing the sniper to pull away from him. The wind didn’t matter when he had a kitten-like Jim curling into his side, pleased to be under Sebastian’s warm embrace. Jim’s eyes were already drooping, and they hadn’t even made it to the gate.

“Brother, dear,” Irene approached them, smiling as she left the gate area. Sebastian frowned, not understanding why she was out here. 

“Rene,” He greeted back, not moving from the comfort of his sniper, “Was about to leave; I couldn’t find you inside...now I know why.” He chuckled softly, not noticing the mischievous little grin stitched onto her lips. This wasn’t going to be good; Sebastian could feel it.

“I was saying goodbye to Kate,” They continued walking towards the gate, Irene trailing beside them with her hair floating on the wind’s waves. 

“Mmm...of course,” He hummed, opening his lips to say something more as they stepped into the gate.

She cleared her throat purposefully, “Gentlemen.” Sebastian’s brow furrowed, watching Irene a few feet away. She pointed up above his head, smirking at him. Heart racing, he lifted his chin, tilting back his head. In a matter of seconds, his cheeks matched the red of the berries attached to the mistletoe that was hanging from the arch of the gate. He felt Jim’s head shift on his chest, knowing he’d seen it now, too.

“There are rules about these things, you know?” She prompted, a brow arching expectantly.

“Oh...no, no I-I couldn-” “Moran, shut up.” Sebasitan snapped his running jaw shut, wide eyes finding Jim’s in a surprised stare. With a purposeful shift so they were chest to chest, Jim pulled Sebastian down with a hand at the back of his neck, pushing their lips together. The sniper felt shivers running through his body, but no way was it from the harsh winds circling them. Jim Moriarty was a storm in himself, so much more exciting than a little winter breeze, yet for once Sebastian was confident he was in the eye of the storm. 

He wanted to stay there forever. 


End file.
